


they met only 10 times

by euridamelia



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27511360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euridamelia/pseuds/euridamelia
Summary: He was a k-pop idol with way too many restrictions; she was a resident doctor with too little time on her hands. Their worlds could never intersect.So when a pretty boy with cat eyes and a healing smile comes knocking on the door of the emergency room next time, she will have to close the hospital gates. Twisted ankles and torn kneecaps be damned.(oneshot, complete)
Relationships: Nakamoto Yuta/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	they met only 10 times

The first time she saw him in person was in the emergency room.

The patient was lying motionless on the hospital cot. Her beeper went off just fifteen minutes after she assisted her senior with a cardiopulmonary bypass surgery. Barely given time to take another swig of her Red Bull and relieve her bladder, the new patient arrived just when the the clock struck two-thirty a.m. She could see that someone did first-aid bandaging on the expanse of his left arm, although there was blood seeping through the white cloth, and his left leg was also casted by the ambulance.. probably.

His body language told her that he wasn't cancelling them out, but he wasn't welcoming, either. Unsmiling but not quite rude. Protective and slightly mistrustful.

Cat-like eyes stared back at her as the elderly head nurse filled her up with the necessary information written under her clip board. She gave him a critical once-over while she stood in front of him. So far, nothing happened to his face, thank God. She'd pretty much feel bad for him if his injuries would actually affect his line of work.

As far as she had known idols, they were said to have this perpetual corny as hell smile on their faces. Even when they had diarrhea.

This man was definitely not having it.

"Nakamoto Yuta, Born on November 5, 1995, twenty-five years old in international age. K-pop idol member/entertainer in SM Entertainment as occupation. Made a wrong spin and fell one meter down the stage during their rehearsals at the dance studio 6 kilometers away from our hospital, obtained a minimal sprain on his meniscus and patellar tendon. Contusion and 4 cm laceration on his left forearm, ecchymosis on the mid dorsolateral portion of his left hand..."

She pulled out the pen light from her coat pocket to inspect his pupils. No sign of abnormal dilation, either. 

"Did you hit your head, Nakamoto-san?" She breezed in fluent Japanese when the nurse finished the run-through. She had no idea who this man was; maybe she had seen him in billboards on her way to work somewhere because his face seemed more familiar than most idols who ended up in their hospital, but she wasn't up to date with the current fads since she started medical school. And this man must be well-versed in Korean enough to be a part of the richest and harshest entertainment company. 

Still, it didn't hurt to practice her own Japanese anyway, no matter how rusty it must have become. 

"No." He replied in Korean. He blinked for a few times before realizing that she was speaking his mother-tongue. "You speak Japanese?" Surprise colored his voice. His mental comprehension and alertness were okay. "And you sound like a native!”

She shrugged slightly at this. Thanking the nurse as the latter bowed and stepped aside, she laid her medical kit on top of the table to proceed with the protocol examination. "My mom's from Kyoto, sir. I was born there.”

Like a child filled with glee, his feline eyes rounded and twinkled when he suddenly smiled, showing rows of perfectly straight white teeth. 

"This is the first time I've seen a young Japanese female doctor in a Korean hospital! You're cool!" He gushed. His enthusiasm was so _incredibly_ infectious that she couldn't help but smile back. How his mood did a sudden 180 degrees turn when she mentioned her origins.. It was like talking to a completely different person compared to when he first arrived.

"I'm actually half Korean, sir. But, thank you." She grew up in England, though. But he didn't need to know that.

The next hour was filled with history taking and some therapy suggestions. She prescribed him some analgesics to ease his pain since the stubborn man insisted that he needed strong pain relievers so that he could continue his performance practices. _No heavy physical exertion for four weeks if you want to keep your kneecaps and career intact,_ she sternly admonished. He got slightly grouchy, but at least he promised to comply.

After informing his manager of his current medications and condition, the patient was good to go. He gave a small salute before rolling up the car window with his good hand.

 _What a strange person_ , she noted.

She was exhausted and slightly wobbly, and she couldn't wait to go home and melt on her bed.

——————————————————————————

The second time she saw him was nearly eight to nine months later, in the entrance of the same emergency room.

But this time, she was _seething_.

She could smell the cigarette breath of the beefy-looking, middle aged, slightly bald commercial director who was standing nearly toe-to-toe in front of her. His haughty expression was unrelenting while the poor student nurses huddled meekly at the side. A few of the k-pop group members stood behind him with very uncomfortable and guilty expressions, except for Yuta, who looked like he was possibly as mad and dumbfounded as she was. She stepped forward, closing the gap between her and the idiotic moron who decided to barge into their humble countryside hospital in the middle of a hectic, emergency-filled schedule.

A multiple car collision accident happened earlier that morning. Two trucks filled with cement, a family van, and a drunk teenage driver with his drunk friends. Five out of eighteen patients did not make it. Four were severely critical and were waiting for the operating room to clear. Her colleagues were busy resuscitating the three year old boy and intubating the fifteen year old girl.

While she had to handle dumbass men who thought the world revolved around their pretty faces and fat bankbooks.

"I will say this again," She warned. "This place is a hospital. Not a publicity stunt venue. Please step out before I call the police."

The man barked. "Do you even know who I am?" Yes, she was in elementary when he was a popular TV icon back in the day. She remembered that he had a scandal of abusing his girlfriends, that's why why he temporarily lost his fame. But due to his connections in the higher ups of the industry, he became a producer of some sorts.

She bitterly remembered him, of course.

"Sorry to say this but my label can buy this dingy old place and he won't even hurt his savings. And, do you know these fine young men behind me?" He sneered. "They are the millionaires from the most powerful and famous company in Korea. Your words mean nothing! Now, clear this place or your puny license will be revoked, _doctor_."

She gave a cursory glance at the window and narrowed her eyes at the thirty or so cameramen and staff who were waiting outside the building. Looking at them in the eyes, she silently dared them to take a stand, before she completely lost all of her respect. 

A new wave of anger rose inside her when she finally realized what was happening.Apart from Yuta, all of the members brought here were _kids_. She could even digress that none of them looked older than twenty-one years old. She briefly remembered that NCT had older members but it seemed like none of them were here except for the Japanese member.

_This was all on purpose. They brought him as the oldest member, a pure foreigner, so that he could not willfully fight back without putting his reputation on the line._

"So you planned this beforehand, huh." She declared lowly. "I expect nothing less. Count on all of you to step over citizens who _actually_ need help just to satisfy your selfishness."

He scoffed. "Little girl, that's how the world works." He tried to push her aside by the shoulder but she remained unmoving and grounded. "That's why women should just stay pretty and cook dinner at home. They're too incompetent and stupid and emotionally weak to handle men's business."

The glint in her eyes menacingly sharpened. "How dare you—"

"Stop."

Yuta suddenly appeared behind them. She balked in surprise, eyes wide. _Since when did he-?_

The beefy man bloomed red in aggravation.

"Yuta-sshi, what are you doing!?" 

One of the younger-looking members stepped in front. "This was never mentioned in the contract. You clearly said we are going to use a well-prepared site with a hospital setting. Not an actual hospital." He scowled. "I have contacted my family lawyer and our company. We will sue you, director-nim."

The man visibly paled. "Wait, Chenle-sshi—“

A muscular arm extended in between the doctor and the director to firmly push the latter away from the former. "Back off, director. You have overestimated yourself and that’s just disgusting.”

With his sharp face taut, man bun, slit eyebrow, chest out, and biceps flexed, the Japanese man's idol image was gone and was replaced with a sheer intimidating command. The beefy man squawked and staggered several steps backwards. He accidentally hit the vase filled with bamboo shoots and spilled water and shards of glass everywhere. The commotion caused a confused flurry from the boys' managers outside and made the rest of the members groan in exasperation.

"Please let their managers in. It's alright." The worn-out doctor called out to the guard.

The managers of the boys were then allowed to enter the premise. All of them bowed deep and profusely apologized for the trouble they have 'caused.' Apparently, they were told that they were going to have a new photoshoot for a cologne brand that they were promoting and the theme was psycho ward or something. But she was merely half-paying attention because her mind was too preoccupied with the multitude of patients she needed to attend to.

But of course, she had to be polite for her coworkers' sakes (they probably had no idea _what the damn k-drama just transpired_ inside their damn hospital).

The boys were said to head back soon after, and the dumb bastard was to be 'questioned' and thoroughly sanctioned by SM Ent. She didn't know how true that was and honestly she didn't care anymore. All she wanted was to call the president of the hospital and ask to double their security personnel. Leave it to the concierge guy to handle the rest of the sweet talking and shit (she had zero tolerance for nitpicking and plastic smiles anyway—that's why she consciously chose the logical aspect of medicine over sugary entrepreneurship). He was animated and slightly off-kilter so it was his job to get the compassion of everyone when situations became sticky. She wondered where the hell he went when the climax of the uproar happened but whatever. At least he was fixing the aftermath.

Rubbing the tiredness off her sleep-deprived eyes, she finally turned to open the door to the emergency room, but was halted when a warm hand rested on her shoulder.

It was Yuta, with a serious expression marring his attractive features.

“That was brave." He muttered.

She shrugged indifferently. "Been through worse. This is nothing."

He frowned, clearly pondering over something. He continued to stare at her as if she was a difficult calculus problem. "It could've caused your job and future. Were you really willing to risk your hard work?"

Her back straightened at his implication and felt defensive. "I value human life more, Nakamoto-san. No amount of title or money could overpower basic respect and benevolence. I don't care who or what you are, or what you do. What I care about is how you treat the people who have nothing when you have everything. Now, if you'll excuse me."

She turned her heel and closed the door, leaving him to his thoughts.

———————————————————————————————————

The third time she saw him was in a fancy bar in Itaewon.

It was one of those rare moments when her colleagues wanted to shake off the heavy atmosphere of the medical field and pretend that they were not caffeine-operated zombies in white coats and blood-splattered scrubs. She genuinely wanted to roll under the covers with her comfy pjs. But then again, she was accused of being a party pooper, and almost all of the staff (except her) unanimously voted for that one very expensive skyrise drinking hub for celebrities, because they do deserve one night of getting shit-faced and crazy in the most lavish manner, damnit.

They were even forced to look fancy for the part.

As if she didn't have only one lousy dress and one pair of miserable-looking heels wedged in between her huge array of sweaters and plain tees and comfortable hospital crocs and sneakers.

"Didn't expect you to be here."

His black and red velvet tuxedo hugged his muscular figure in all of the right places. His long hair was dyed blonde and combed back, making the array of assorted gemstones and pure white gold accessories in his ears glaringly visible under the dim lights. He had this quizzical look in his cat-eyes again when he trailed shamelessly along her conservative dress code and subdued figure. She felt self-conscious from the obvious scrutiny, but her pride was on the line and she didn't want to look as out of place as she felt.

"Nakamoto-san, good evening." She tilted her head evenly.

Her back leaned comfortably against the countertop as the soft jazz music and the inaudible chatter of people filled the silence between them. Without uttering another word, he sat beside her and motioned the bartender to get himself a drink. She stared at her own reflection in her half-finished red wine. Had she met this man six years ago, before witnessing multiple deaths, streamline of useless celebrity issues and gossips, and endless malarky of her friends' heartaches, she would've found it very pleasing to have an extremely handsome man not more than a meter away from her.

But her rational self had enough of good-looking boys who could lead one astray if one lost footing.

Or maybe, it was just part of growing up, she thought. Certain experiences and encounters with various walks of life rendered her too numb and desensitized with regards to matters of the heart (and body, if you will).

Do you always come here?" He gave her a side-glance.

"Nope." She shook her head. "I don't even like expensive places. I'd rather stay at home with my cat."

He raised an eyebrow amusedly. "Then you're on a date with someone who likes parties?"

She motioned towards the exclusively reserved room at the other corner of the bar where the view of the entirety of Central Seoul looked spectacular. "My colleagues are in there."

"Ah, I see." He slowly nodded in understanding.

They fell into silence once again. She downed the rest of her drink to let herself breathe easy. The wine was starting to take effect on her body, and she welcomed the gradual warming of her insides like a good friend.

"I never knew your name, by the way."

She hummed, staring ahead. It looked as if she was paying attention to the jazz singer, but in truth she was trying to decide how to respond. 

"Yes.." She pursed her lips in acquiescence. ".. I'm afraid you never did."

"What's your name, doctor?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Why, Nakamoto-san? Are you going to sue me for cutting you off last time?" 

He turned to her in surprise. Normally, women would usually simp on him no matter what he asked, did whatever he requested. Most of them even found his domineering ways sexy whenever he put down his cute image as an idol to revert to his alpha male self.

But then again, there was always an exception to the norm.

“Did I say that I would?” He bit back, unsure on how to deal with a woman who easily retorted his advances without a hint of flirtation. She wasn't affected at all. This was new. "Are you normally like this to everyone you meet? Or are you just wary of me?"

"Both, Nakamoto-san." She smirked dryly. "Ordinary people like me have lots of things to be worried about, most especially when it comes to extremely popular individuals and media covering."

He grinned in disbelief. "You're definitely a doctor. Too smart-assed and paranoid for your own good."

"It's my proudest trait, I guess." She sarcastically drawled while waving at the bartender for another shot. Letting out a huff, she tilted her head towards him. "Hotaru."

He nodded sagely. "That's not your real name, is it?"

"It is my real Japanese name, given by my grandma. But my birth certificate uses my Korean name because my dad said so." 

"Now that's an information." He chuckled. "You went from zero to 100 immediately, Hotaru-san."

"In life, we have to be ready for zero to 100 situations always, so." She clinked her glass into his empty one, earning a raised brow from him.

"You can never be totally ready for the 100s." He held her gaze with a strange intensity. "Sometimes it's okay to just live in the moment in between and be happy with the flow.”

——————————————————

The fourth time he saw him was during their reality show.

She was suddenly summoned by their hospital chairman a month after her encounter with Yuta in Itaewon. Peeling off her gloves and squeezing some hand sanitizer in between her palms, she entered the office with the initial thought of a new trauma case or a discussion with the current disease updates, or some other things regarding the hospital or her promotion. Most of her workmates have gone home, and as the youngest and one of the few who were unmarried amongst the staff, she was in-charge of the midnight shift.

But instead, she was told that SM Ent was looking for resident doctors who could be on standby while they shoot for the new reality show involving their current cash cows. Her eyebrows nearly shoot up all the way to her hairline. “But chairman, out of all the doctors in Central Seoul, they ask someone from the countryside?”

The chairman handed over her consent papers. “Maybe because your fearless debacle impressed them, Dr. Ji-Moon. Anyway, consider this date as your paid day-off. You deserve it.”

So, she watched the NCT boys participate in the different games and challenges while she waited inside the ambulance van. They were inexplicably loud and entertaining and they reminded her of her very chaotic middle school classmates during P.E. class. There were occasional trips to her site when they slipped or slightly bruised themselves, but other than that, they were relatively safe.

A familiarly handsome face in his signature man bun, white t-shirt, and gray jogging pants, leaped gracefully above the fence and climbed inside the van to sit beside her. She fought the urge to squirm when he stretched his legs and arms, barely leaving a few inches of space between them.

“You really remind me of my cat.” She blurted without thinking.

He raised an amused brow. 

“I’m sorry." She bit her lip to cover her embarrassment. That was uncalled for.”

He chuckled when he saw her ears turn red. “No, no. It’s fine. Many people call me baby lion, anyway. My fans also think that I belong to the cat family.”

He seemed so happy and relaxed today. She observed the warm friendship between him and his members, and she was sort of relieved that they weren’t faking their bonds like most groups did. There were some who looked awkward and shy around each other as much as others were hyperactive and energetic.

At least this was a good way to bond 23 freaking boys in one sitting while their higher-ups gained more money.

 _A win-win situation,_ she mused wryly.

He remained inside the van for the next couple of minutes and filled the air with light talk and random funny facts about his friends. She tried not to think too much about it, but at the same time it slightly unnerved her of how easily he revealed things when she was technically a stranger. And when he plucked an eyelash off her cheek and asked her to make a wish before he blew it somewhere, she honestly didn’t know what to think.

The whistle blew after ten minutes, and by then she had begrudgingly given her phone number after losing one round of rock-paper-scissors.

He grabbed her hand and pressed a steam bun against her open palm. “Here. Eat this, Firefly-chan.”

“Wha—“

“Call me lion-oppa from now on!” He gave her a wink before jumping off the van and leaping above the fence again.

_Firefly-chan?_

———————————————————————————-

The fifth time she saw him was an exhausting evening.

She was temporarily assigned to Seoul Medical Center for two weeks as a part of her residency training. The buildings were considerably bigger and more modern, the patients three times the amount, and the mental exhaustion and heated competition between doctors sucked the _soul_ out of her (pardon the pun). For the past few days, she had been in a whirlwind of seminars, patient endorsements, lawsuits from fatal accident victims, dying infants, sobbing hysterical relatives, and different mind-boggling diseases that gave her nightmares. More than once did she ended up waking in the wee hours of the morning in front of the CT-scan and X-ray computers with a half-finished stale cold coffee from the night before.

And it was a miracle that she was able to withstand 48 hours with barely a Red Bull and a cookie to live by.

She felt like _hell_.

She dragged her completely beaten body outside the hospital to sit by the park bench. Plucking her personal phone from her scrub pocket, she heaved a heavy sigh at the array of messages and alerts from food deliveries, her mom, friends, some bank/tax notices…

She realized earlier that year to have separate phones for her job and daily use because she couldn’t afford patient emergencies to be mixed up with pizza discounts. She was too tired to read all of them, so she just scanned through thoughtlessly. Until one unknown number caught her eye.

_Are you sitting beside the lamp post? Are you wearing matching blue clothes?_

Her eyes widened. She remembered making the mistake of giving out her personal number to ten of her patients when she was too tired to function properly. The instant regret washed over her. Did they give it to someone else?

_Who are you?_

She looked around anxiously. Was someone following her? Did she have a stalker? What—

_Behind you._

She immediately stood up to face the anonymous person. Who in the hell—

“ _Konbanwa_ , Firefly-chan.”

Her mouth fell open.

Donned in a black Adidas jacket and track pants, with a black beanie, thick glasses, and skull face mask, it was hard to recognize him with only the street lights. But she could recognize that velvet voice _anywhere_.

“.. Nakamoto-san? What are you doing here?”

He walked closer until he was sitting beside her. “I thought I told you to call me lion-oppa?”

She could only blink, not fully processing what just happened. Yuta grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him. He pointed at a Yakiniku place across the street. “I was there, in a private area. And I saw someone that looked like you but I wasn’t sure.”

Suddenly, she felt the pangs of _ferocious_ hunger.

“… Yakiniku, you say?”

“Yep.” He studied her face before continuing. “Have you eaten dinner?”

“Aside from a cookie, I haven’t eaten anything in almost 2 days.”

His eyes widened. "Are you serious?”

"I mean, I was very, very busy.."

“Doctors are supposed to stay healthy, Hotaru." He immediately got up. "How are you going to cure people if you're sick?"

"I mean, you got a point but-"

"Whatever you say will only make you a hypocrite. You're the one promoting good health but you're not taking care of yourself?"

"Well, excuse me-"

"--That's why, you should come with me and let me feed you!”

She only noticed that he had never let go of her hand when he rapidly yanked her towards the restaurant and into the automatic sliding doors. A whoosh of cold air and a delicious waft made her stomach grumble when they stepped inside. Red lanterns hung above the ceiling, each having a Hiragana character written in front, with traditional yellow light bulbs in between.Tatami mats covered the wooden floor and low tables with pillow cushions lined the sides. His grip on her smaller hand tightened when they rounded the corner that led to a sliding door. “Nakamo—“

“Cute lion-oppa!” He chided quietly.

“L-lion…” She cringed. What the hell is up with him making up nicknames? “I thought you already ate?”

“I could order DIY takoyaki to keep you company!” She could hear the excitement in his voice even though his back was facing her.

Really, it was hard to say no to this adorable man-child.

So he had two sisters, he shared. He was the only boy and the middle kid, so he often felt left out, but his parents and siblings loved him unconditionally. He talked about how difficult it was to travel across the globe alone at fourteen, without anything but only his dream in his pocket, and the memory of his disappointed father sobbing in front of him, begging him to think things through, or else he would never accept him in his home anymore. Soccer was the only thing he knew when he was a child, but everything changed when he saw TVXQ perform on stage. For him it was his biggest and grandest turning point, and it was still the driving force of his passions until this day. His first concert in Osaka was emotional and exhilarating because it was the testament of everything he had been through. His father was the first one who hugged him and told him how proud he was. He ended up having apple cheeks and red eyes on his way back to the hotel that night.

He thought of retiring to Okinawa when the time comes. Until then, he chose to live his life as fiercely as he could.

She listened to him in quiet appreciation. He was clever, street-smart, endearingly clumsy, savage, confident, very competitive, emotionally soft, and full of wisdom. They both found out they loved books from similar authors and exchanged haiku phrases and funny Japanese quotes. She mentioned that she used to sneak alone in Osaka when she was a teenager because of the food and the people’s easygoing disposition. When her food was nearly finished, he admitted that he became curious of her situation when she said that she was from Kyoto.

“Actually, I grew up in Manchester, England.” She took a bite of sashimi. He turned to her, waiting for her to continue. She suddenly felt hesitant “… My life’s a bit complicated.”

He nodded. “I understand. Don’t push yourself.”

“No, it’s okay.” She laughed sheepishly. “I just don’t know where to start.”

“How about we start from this?” Yuta picked a big takoyaki ball from the maker and held it in front of her mouth. “Say ahhh.”

She chortled while leaning away. “Cut that out, Nakamoto-san!”

“I’m serious! Come on.” He leaned closer, his knee pressing against her thigh. Her chest made successions of double flips.

His muscular figure was looming over her, although she tried to tell herself that he might have not noticed what he was doing. Feeling a blush creep up her neck, she tried to cover her shyness by laughing out loud. “Yah! Nakamoto-san! Don’t be silly!”

If someone suddenly entered, he or she would have a _very bad_ impression of them. 

_“Hotaru.”_

Her breath caught up in her throat as soon as his voice went two octaves _below._ She suddenly forgot how to laugh, the heat reaching up her face as her heart rate sped up.

When she looked up at him in blatant astonishment, her throat felt _very_ dry.

His gaze was consuming, laser-focused and unyielding. It reminded him of the way he looked when he was talking to the director, but the difference was that there was no animosity in his eyes. Instead it was filled with _something_ she couldn’t admit without turning as red as a ripe tomato. She was wondering for the past few months if she was imagining it, but he might as well have slapped her straight in the face with it now.

 _“Hotaru.”_ His voice was dangerously huskier. He pressed the ball against her mouth, slowly massaging her lips to the point of being _sensual_.

“Open your _little_ mouth, Hotaru.” His expression darkened. His other hand brushed underneath her chin, urging her to open up wider. Wordlessly she took it in, acutely aware that the chopsticks he used to feed her was inside his mouth just minutes ago.

She tried her best to chew without hyperventilating. The air suddenly felt very hot and heavy despite the whirring of the air-conditioner above the ceiling. Literally no space existed between them with her entire right side and back pressed against his left and front and his warmth permeating against her, his breath trickling the back of her neck and right ear. She tried to concentrate on regulating her erratic breathing through her nose since her mouth was full.

Yuta wasn’t saying anything, either. Instead, he just poured more batter on the takoyaki maker and made pre-formed balls.

She could _feel_ all of him. And she was almost certain by now that he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. Like he was purposely engulfing her with his scent and presence until—

She sputtered and coughed—there was no use. It was hard not to asphyxiate when a cute boy was urging her to call him a cute lion one minute and straddling her like a sex beast in the next. He reached for the tall glass of water and brought it towards her lips.

“Here, have a sip.” His normal voice was back, thank the heavens. She gulped down generously. Shivers traveled along her spine when she felt his hand rubbing her back.

“I’m—I’m, yeah, um.—“ _God, pull yourself together Hotaru!_ “Okay. Yes.”

“That’s good.” He halted his ministrations to settle his hand lightly on her waist. The same hand pressed a bit against the bare skin that peeked beneath her scrub shirt, but not quite intrusively.

She wanted to punch him right then. _As if it wasn’t his fault she nearly choked to death!_

Then his phone rang. Clicking his tongue, he shifted a bit to check the number. “My manager’s calling.”

“Shouldn’t you answer that?” She cleared her throat. He looked back at her again for a minute. “Yeah.” He paused and stared at her lips. “Or else I will not be allowed to enjoy moments like this anymore.”

He reluctantly stood up and went out of the room. When she was sure that he was out of earshot, she released all the air she was holding.

A young waitress entered the room while she composed herself and asked if she had further orders aside from the food they had consumed. _No thank you_ , she smiled at the girl. _We are more or less done with our meal, aside from the half-finished takoyaki._ She gave her credit card for the check, earning a puzzled look from the young waitress. She perked. “Sorry, did I give the wrong card?”

“No, ma’am. It’s just..” The waitress’ eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t mean to be rude but.. Shouldn’t the man pay for your date, though?”

She blinked a couple of times before laughing lightheartedly. “No, because we’re not dating. I’m just here to eat, and he’s just a good friend who kept me company.” She patted the girl’s hand. “Besides, if you were to date anyone, it’s better to share the expenses with your partner especially ifboth of you are working and earning. We’re already living in modern times, after all.”

The girl beamed at her. “I’ll keep that in mind, _unnie_.” She bowed before leaving.

Yuta went back minutes after the girl collected her credit card. The only thing that was left on their table was the takoyaki machine and the stuffings. He sat beside her, a bit farther now, with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What’s up?” She asked.

He blew a bit of air before muttering, more to himself than to her. “Looks like they’re looking for me. Said I’ve been gone for too long”

She hummed thoughtfully in response. “It does look like time passed quick. We’ve been here for an hour and a half.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “I might be needed in the emergency room, as well.”

He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I guess that’s fair.” He paused and gave her a guilty look. “I think I was talking and teasing you too much earlier, and you ended up not sharing about your worries.”

“It’s alright.” She giggled and reassured him gently. “You’re such an entertaining and wise fluff ball of sunshine. I felt at ease just by listening to you.”

“I’m not really the type who'd easily share about myself.” He avoided her eyes. “I like revealing stupid and very embarrassing things, especially when it’s about other people but—“ He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. “—I guess I felt comfortable with you even though we barely know and see each other. You’re a great listener.”

She raised a brow in bemusement. Was this really the man who flat out nearly killed her by seduction earlier?

The waitress went back to give her the credit card. Yuta’s eyes widened. “Ehhh?!” He looked at her incredulously as she fixed her card back into her wallet. “You paid?!”

“Yes?” She blinked innocently. “Why?”

“I was going to pay for you!”

She waved her hand in disapproval. “Nah, this is my treat. I was the only one ordering most of the food and you gave me a steam bun before. I’m simply returning the favor.”

He was at a loss for words until they were out of the restaurant. “You are the strangest girl I’ve ever spent time with.”

She laughed heartily before poking his shoulder in good nature. “Good night, lion-oppa. Go home already.”

———————————————————————————

The sixth time they met was a tragic burn-out.

She sobbed against his chest, felt his strong arms wrap tight around her, his velvet voice telling her that she should never blame herself for the things she couldn’t control.

_We are all living in borrowed time, Hotaru. Just because you weren’t able to save the child’s life doesn’t mean you failed as a doctor._

_What am I here for then, Yuta? What is even my purpose, when I fail at the things that I worked so hard and slaved for? It’s so hard for me to face the mothers of my young patients. I promised them, Yuta._

_Hotaru, no one could stop death. When it happens, it happens. The one thing you can do is hold the hands of the ones left behind and give them the comfort they need._

_I’m sorry. I’m a mess right now. I should’ve just told you to not meet up. You should’ve enjoyed your free day today. I shouldn’t have destroyed your happy mood with your success. Congratulations, by the way._

_Thank you, and please shut up. I hate it when you tell me to ignore this side of you._

_I saw your performance. It was marvelous. I’m so proud of you. All of the Ai and Yutazens and NCtzens are so proud of you. You deserve all the pretty things in life._

_I know. We deserve that. I get it. Now, can I kiss you already or do you still need to cry?_

———————————————————————

The seventh time they met was not an accident anymore.

The pain in her back barely registered when it was slammed against her door apartment. She was more focused on the teeth that was tugging at her lower lip, the possessive tongue that was tangling wildly with hers, and the hand that was squeezing her left breast. His other hand had this vice grip on both of her wrists above her head. There were so many sensations around her that it took her a while to remember that they were still fully clothed and out in the open. She gasped every time he stabbed his jean-clad erection against her dampening underwear.

“Yuta.. Please—“ She moaned when he slipped his hand under her blouse to squeeze her nipple, all the while increasing the force on his hips between her legs. “Inside. Somebod—“ The hand that held her wrists covered her mouth. He pressed his tongue against her ear and hissed. “If you want us to go inside, you must cum for me first. Right here.”

This was the first time that things went out of control, and yet Yuta was already this.. _brazen_. She realized that he was an exhibitionist. Everything for him was an intense and ground-breaking performance and he never left anything half-baked or mediocre.

“Ahn, nhgng,—“ She was dripping now. His hand wrapped around her neck as he sucked on her tongue, rendering it numb and bruised. The wet patch on his pants had considerably grown bigger, his own crotch increasing in size. She could feel her head close to exploding as she gathered all of her willpower to stop screaming like a banshee.

Her muffled whimpers turned into indistinct gibberish cries when his tempo quickened and the hand around her neck tightened very delicately, the rough grating of their clothing intensifying the delicious tension between them.

A satisfied smile graced his lips when her legs trembled violently and her fingernails scratched at his chest. There she was, beautifully flushed and small and sexy and gasping desperately for air when he released his light chokehold. And they haven’t even begun taking off their clothes yet.

He kissed her damp forehead. “Was that your first time?”

She weakly nodded. She couldn’t even feel her legs anymore. “J-just because I wore a pencil skirt to work.. And you turned into a freak—” She shook her head when he laughed in perverse mischief. “—the hell, Yuta.”

“Jokes on you, baby. I’ve always been a freak.” He fastened her legs securely around his waist when she wrapped her languid arms around his shoulders. Fishing out for her keys in her bag, he did the honors of unlocking her beloved door with all the dirty thoughts in mind.

They kissed soundly as they moved around her apartment with Yuta massaging and occasionally slapping her panty-covered ass. But instead of moving to her bedroom, he swerved elsewhere instead. She was filled with bewilderment when he had her sit on top of the kitchen counter. Dread filled her stomach when he caressed her bare thighs. “What are you planning to do?”

He nuzzled his face in between her breasts. “You’ve never had sex before, right?”

“I told you already.” She rolled her eyes. “Why do you have to ask me over and over?”

He turned serious and looked up at her meaningfully. “Because I want to make sure if you really want it this way.”

For the hundredth time since they met, until they’ve reached this level, she was speechless because of his kindness once again. “Y-Yuta..”

“I can think of many ways to satisfy you, you know.” He wrapped his arms around her and snuggled his face against her neck. “I can happily and willingly do everything if you want me to. You don’t have to sacrifice anything for me, unless you’re genuinely sure.”

She pondered over his words. Yes, she was very turned on. Yes, she wanted him. Yes, she wanted to experience things and she would not regret a single moment if it was with him.

But for some reason, she understood what he meant. She had kept to herself for so long, not because of religion or virtue, but because she knew how much emotional weight it had on her. Many people gave themselves easily and there was nothing wrong with that, and there was even a time when she thought of doing the same, but she knew deep within her that she wanted to give herself to the person she loved.

Did she love Yuta that way?

She was scared to even consider the thought. He was sugar, spice, and everything nice, but she knew that she couldn’t live in rose-colored glasses. He was a k-pop idol with way too many restrictions; she was an aspiring resident doctor with too little time on her hands. She was not _that_ naive to actually entertain idea of them living happily ever after, because that could only exist in teenage imagination. If they were different people with different jobs in a parallel universe, then maybe.. there was a chance.

But right now, that was close to impossible.

Suddenly, her heart felt extremely heavy.

She pulled away.

He blinked in confusion. Did he use the right words? He was definitely game with whatever she wanted to experiment with, as long as she was comfortable.

“Hotaru—“ His lust turned to quiet concern when she saw her eyes turn glassy. She gently traced the sharp angles of his face with her fingers and tangled them into his black dyed hair.

Wanting something you could never have was the worst feeling in the world.

“Yuta..” She smiled sadly, carefully. She was breaking her own heart and there was no one else to blame but herself.

There was something in her that made him weak. He already knew that the lines between their friendship had distorted to the point of no return the moment he held her hand that one particular Yakiniku night. He already knew she got him hook, line, and sinker when she regarded him nonchalantly in that emergency room despite his manager’s insistence to treat him like a special superstar. He already knew he was gravitating towards her orbit when she did not hesitate to diss his misconceptions of her without caring about his status. She saw him as a human and not just an idol. She saw him as a man who didn’t need to be babied but carefully listened to and respected.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he unbuttoned her blouse while connecting his mouth with hers. 

_We are all living in borrowed time, Hotaru._

She melted into the kiss, letting him take the lead. The insistent obtrusion of his tongue and the way his soft plump lips mesh passionately against hers made her feel electrocuted and alive.

Tossing her blouse to the side, he traced her back and unclasped the hook of her bra to reveal small mounds of flesh and pert pink nipples. She was almost embarrassed in front of him, knowing quite well that she wasn't as voluptuous as most of the sexily-clad fan girls and idols that mooned over him. But the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only woman on the planet. He wasted no time in gently pushing her down and covering one rosy bud with his mouth while rubbing his thumb fervently on the other. Stifled moans filled the small living room when he alternated between sucking and and letting his tongue continuously swirl around it.

She gasped when his thumb drew circles against her covered clit, adding up to the friction. Some of his fingers traveled lower to prod her cunt, his middle finger slipping inside as far as he could go with her panties intact. Yuta allowed himself to smirk even though his mouth was busy nibbling her reddened and swollen nipple, taking note of the heated moisture that coated his digits.

He pulled away slightly, earning a soft whine from girl underneath him. He raised his hand in front of her face to let her see the result of her arousal. “So naughty.” He cooed.

He had never felt so empowered and tender when pleasuring a lady before. Sure, he had various sexual experiences beforehand, and there were instances where he felt egoistic gratification when most girls quickly gave in to his expertise whenever he felt like it. Most of them screamed and excessively blow-jobbed and talked filthy like how porn expected them to be, for the sake of carnal want and bodily enjoyment. There was even a point in his life when his weekly sex schedules became so emotionally lackluster and hollow that he exchanged them to playing videogames and practicing his dancing/singing skills instead.

But the way she looked at him, eyes half-mast and filled with undiluted and sincere desire for him as _Nakamoto Yuta_ and not as _NCT Yuta_... He wanted to do nothing but surrender into her completely.

He paused to slide his middle digit inside his mouth. It was s _weet_ and _creamy_ and _delicious_ and her scent reminded him of strawberry yogurt _._

 _His new favorite snack,_ he grinned wickedly.

“Lick it, _Hotaru-chan_.”

His gaze darkened as soon as her soft tongue touched the rest of his fingers. Lapping at them gently, she indulgently stared up at him as he went in and out of her mouth, his attention fixated on the way she sucked them one by one. She was so fucking _submissive_ that his cock twitched painfully against his pants.

Her mouth made a resounding _plop_ when he took them out completely. Before she could even protest, both of his hands went to either sides of her hips and they swiftly peeled her panties down to her ankles.

“Yuta!” She shrieked. Her legs clinched shut automatically out of embarrassment.

He brushed some of her bangs away from her face. “I’m not going to take you. But I want to pleasure you.” Peppering butterfly kisses along her cheeks, he stared into her eyes. There was definite hunger written on his face, but there was also affectionate regard. “Is that okay?”

She let out a shaky breath. How could she even say no when he was asking so sweetly? “B-but please don’t force yourself to do things you might not li—”

“Oh, trust me.” His smoulder turned greedy. “I’ve been wanting to eat you since we met at Itaewon.”

An appalled squeal and a shoulder slap filled the room, followed by a maniacal laugh.

———————————————————-

The eighth time they met was a shouting competition.

He was tired, she was tired, their schedules didn’t match, their bodies and minds were overworked and exhausted. The media and the entire world was hellbent on hating and sending him and his family death threats for a baseless rumor that even he had never heard of, everyone in the hospital abhorred her with a passion because they thought she was a whistleblower who was against a corrupt but famous higher-up. His dating rumors gave her anxieties she shouldn’t have, her crazy array of surgeries and ICU emergencies left him with dozens of unread messages. Sasaengs followed him even when he went to the bathroom, angry crime suspects had her head at gunpoint for defending rape victims.

It was raining hard and he was hurling obscenities at her.

It was raining hard and there were tears in her eyes, her chest felt like it was on cardiac arrest.

_We should have fucking ended this a long time ago!_

He didn’t mean to. Honestly. He was just in the worst time of his life and he couldn’t open up to his members because they were suffering the same things he did, in different variations.

Her heart went to asystole. She left without saying a word.

He watched her leave, thinking it was for the best. He’d rather be the bad guy than endanger her further with his fucked-up and pretentious lifestyle.

—————————————————————

The ninth time they met was faded in his last song.

Her date asked her what was wrong, why she looked so pale when the singers in front of them were world-class and of the best quality. He was beautifully elegant in his white suit when he stood with his members at the stage of the 5-star hotel, she was frozen and speechless along with the extravagantly-dressed audience. He was just waiting for his part, while they just happened to pass by. Her heart stopped when their eyes met, the moment he mouthed the lyrics:

“ _Faded in my last song, don’t know what I’m saying_

_I have to let you go from my memory, the weather called you is over_

_This is my last song”_

She asked to be excused when she let go of her confused companion’s hand. Running, looking for a place to hide, she didn’t know what spirit possessed her to reach the empty parking basement in minutes. The unisex bathroom stall was her only refuge. Breathless, she looked at her own reflection in the mirror and could barely recognize herself.

_One year and three months since that night._

She poured herself in her work, even volunteered to handle her colleagues’ day-off duties on her free days, ever since that rainy day. Most of them were amazed at her tenaciousness, others thought she was crazy. Not one soul in Korea knew she was nursing and trying to fix a demolished heart.

Not long after, she quit her position in Seoul Medical Center, booked a flight, transferred to Kyoto’s rural hospital, and went straight to her mother’s shoulder to finally sob until daylight. She covered her ears and eyes literally and figuratively when even non-well known k-pop groups appeared on TV or when her young nieces randomly gossiped about their k-pop and j-pop faves. They thought she hated it with a passion because she found them ridiculous and childish.

They had no idea.

For months she avoided Osaka with determination. Her mom pitied her, but at the same time she was glad that it happened to her daughter without so much damage. She had to experience these things even though it was a late time coming. At least her daughter was careful enough not to enter the same tragic path she did.

The kind young son of a lacquer shop owner from Gion was shyly asking about Hotaru-chan, her mother informed casually. Maybe she could try and open her heart again.

She was very, very reluctant when they waited for Tsukishima-kun at dinner.

He had _his_ eyes.

There were parts of Tsukishima that looked like Yuta. But their personalities were too different. He was everything Yuta was not: innocent, serious, well-organized, conservative, focused on the family traditions, almost never joked.

And she thought, _maybe this wasn’t so bad after all._

Their first kiss made her uncomfortably formal. He was treating her like a delicate princess, as if she would break if he did something more than ghost his lips against hers. He told her that he could give her anything she asked and she wouldn’t have to raise a finger. She began to contradict, but then his mother arrived in the receiving room with a tray of green tea and sakura cakes and inform her of the exquisite gifts they prepared for their son’s lover.

The first time she gave her virginity away, she felt nothing. He was drunk with sake when he caressed her face. The onsen was deserted, and he was giving sloppy and inexperienced kisses along her neck. It was cute at first, since he did ask for consent and she gave. _What did she have to lose now, anyway?_ She did love him. Not the explosive, heart-wrenching way she did with Yuta, but she had a certain comfortable affection for him that made her feel self-assured for her future. He trembled and slept soundly beside her while she laid there, untouched in places she wanted to be touched, unsatisfied and not even reaching halfway through.

But he wanted to get married immediately, have five children, and have her quit her doctor duties forever. He wanted her to handle the things expected of the typical Japanese housewife, but she could never.

She apologized to him, his family, and _her_ Japanese side of the family.

 _I can’t, mom._ Her mother hugged her. She understood and hoped that her daughter would be happy someday.

She moved to Manchester when her father called, saying that the hospital he was working in needed more trauma surgeon residents. She was on the plane when _From Home_ by _NCT U_ played on the random music playlist. Swallowing the lump on her throat, she took out her airpods and played Ariana Grande’s _Thank You, Next_ , instead.

She found herself biting a sardonic grin when her father introduced her to his new wife and her twin toddler half-brothers. They looked as Western-Asian as they could get, juggling between Korean and English while fighting for the dinosaur toy. He asked about her mother while they were in his study as diplomatically as he could, although she wondered if she only imagined the regretful tenderness in his voice.

 _Maybe if your mother waited a bit for me, we might be fighting over her beef stew on the stove right now._ He joked. They met when he was a fumbling young medical intern from Busan and she was a famous Maiko waiting for her debut to become a Geiko/Geisha. She just happened to perform her _Four Season Dance_ in a Japanese Festival beside Seoul Medical University while he was off to buy a sandwich during his meager break time.

When she found out she was pregnant, she ran back to Japan and never showed her face forever, leaving him bitter and confused. He only reconnected with her maternal grandparents through the phone, nine months later, when they demanded him to affix his signature on a baby girl's birth certificate. His anger and shock was so palpable that he borderline threatened her family that if he was not the one who was to decide for the infant’s name, he was going to _sue_ them for his paternal rights. He vowed to never see her mum again, except if it was for his very first daughter, because the moment her aunt anonymously sent him a baby picture, he knew that he already loved the little bundle with his whole being.

 _How awfully familiar._ She shook her head.

“Dr. Kwan?” His secretary, Anita Briggs, peeped through the door.

“Yes, Annie?” They both replied in english. The three of them looked at each other and laughed.

“Brixton Academy called to inform you that your Neuroanatomy Review Manual has finally been published. I will place the finished copy of it on your office table.” She winked at them both before closing the door. He shook his head, still snickering.

“You’re definitely my daughter, Ji-Moon.”

“You’re definitely my dad, Ji-Young.”

They talked about her father’s recent work, and in turn he asked about her future plans. When their conversation went to her life-or-death moments in the emergency ward, his eyes became tender and misty. “I’m proud of you, kid.” The calloused hands that saved lines and held dying brainstems reached out to hold her hand. “You’re a fighter. You won’t go down easy.”

How she wished that was true when she went back to Seoul to gather her final papers.

She had begun to highly doubt her father’s words when she sat on the closed toilet seat, trying to chastise herself. Her phone vibrated repeatedly inside her purse but she didn’t have the strength to answer the calls of Park Yonsaeng, a good-natured guy introduced by her non-medical friends. This was supposed to be their first real date after one humble night of karaoke and cheap drinks, when she had no idea that he was actually the son of a fashion designer and the CEO of a shipping line company. She woke up the next day feeling sore and hungover and disoriented in a room that was not hers, only realizing later what the hell she did when he saw him snoring beside her without clothes on.

Both of them no idea what happened after they shared chasers the night before. But matured discussions were made and morning after pills were taken before he finally gathered the courage to ask her for a proper date. They were just hitting off well and had started the evening with casual flirting until the commentator announced that they invited very special and important guests.

Now she didn’t want to see _his_ face. She didn’t want to see _everyone’s_ faces.

She didn’t think it would still _freaking_ hurt like it just happened yesterday.

His face was everywhere nowadays. From soju bottles to face masks to TV commercials, he and his members were already completely impossible to ignore inside Korea. They had become so huge that they had become household terms and kids’ role-models.

She thought she could live through it. Pictures of him didn’t affect her as much anymore. She could already buy their albums when her nieces from Japan requested. She thought she could finally remove his existence from her life.

But no one prepared her for _this_.

Even just a single glance from the actual person himself had her already mentally kicking herself for being _so_ pathetic.

Of course he had moved on. How could he not? He was already living and striving inside thousands of men and women’s wet dreams even way back then. He had been surrounded by beautiful people more than half of his life, and more than a hundred of them were willing to pay thousands of dollars just to satisfy him and tend to his needs. She was nothing but another notch on his bedpost. She was just hurting herself uselessly.

A soft knock from the bathroom door made her jump.

“H-hello? Is anyone there” The sound of an elderly man made her scramble to fix herself. She allowed herself to inhale and exhale a couple of times before answering. “Uh, yes. It’s occupied, sir.”

“Ma’am, this is the janitor’s bathroom..”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be out soon.” She stopped to look at her reflection again.

Her mascara had stained, her hair was disheveled and some strands had fallen from the fancy chignon. Her eyes were red and puffy and _damp_.

“… Can I use this cubicle for a bit longer?”

“Ma’am?”

“I’m very sorry, but I really need it right now. I might stay here for a while.”

“I-is everything okay there, ma’am?”

She sighed in defeat, finally letting some of her tears escape. “I don’t think so, sir. I’m sorry. Please let me stay.”

“… Okay, but I might come back later to clean, ma’am..”

For how long she sat there with the lights turned off, she didn’t know. The only thing that illuminated that cramped area was the moon’s reflection that entered the little window high above the wall. The ringing of her phone finally stopped hours ago, and Yeonsaeng would probably never contact her again after what she did. The lights in the parking area flickered briefly, indicating that most people from the party had probably left with their cars.

She was totally alone now.

Her thoughts traveled to the new apartment her father reserved for her specialization training in England. It had pretty beige walls and a nice fireplace. She had visited the location and admired Dovestone lake on her window. Her cat would be happy to see the built-in cat shelves that the previous owner had installed. She could start anew, clear her thoughts, have her life together again.

There was a knock on the door again, but this time she was ready to step out.

“I’m sorry for earlier, janitor-sshi. I was—“

Her mind went blank as she stared right at Nakamoto Yuta’s face.

The basement lights had been turned off, the gates closed and locked. Only the red light of the FIRE EXIT signage could be seen amidst the darkness behind him. The moon casted silver into his eyes, making him look ethereal in his pure white suit and tie.

“So you’re finally on a date with someone who likes parties now, huh?”

She would’ve smiled if her chest wasn’t hurting so bad. “I’ve heard that line before.”

“Sure you did.” His tone was clipped, controlled. “Long time no see, Hotaru.”

She fought the urge to tremble. “My name is Kwan Ji-Moon. Please call me Kwan-sshi, or Doctor Kwan, if you will.”

He threw his head back when he laughed humorlessly. “Wow. Once upon a time, someone refused to tell me her name. Now she’s telling me about how she’s supposed to be addressed.”

Her arms instinctively wrapped around herself. She hated the sarcasm in his voice. She hated the bucket of ice that washed over her as his words sent fresh daggers into her supposedly healing scars. She hated how weak she had become, how he knew her vulnerabilities and turned it against her. She hated how she had fallen in love with someone so _cold_ and calculating and conniving.

“Nakamoto-san.” She murmured. “Kindly step aside. I have to go home now.”

His jaw clenched upon hearing the way she formally regarded him. The impartialness and polite distance had _stung_ so much more than when she cursed at him.

She almost yelled when she was dragged back inside.

“What the hell are you doing?!” She slapped his chest when he turned the locks of the knob. “Let me go, you damn bastar—“

“You slept with him.”

Taeyong had to hold his arm in warning when Yeonsaeng drunkenly ratted out his one night stand with the young doctor he was supposed to be with earlier that night. Asshole had way too many whiskey shots and Yuta would have slammed the bottle into his fuckboy face if his dumb bloke of a father wasn’t a shareholder of SM Ent. Knuckles cracked beneath the table and blood boiled to dangerous levels when the motherfucker used dirty slurs to describe her apparent innocence, bragging that he lied and got her too drunk on purpose.

 _Calm down, hyung,_ Jungwoo begged. They already knew, ever since the variety show shooting. _Yuta-hyung seemed happier than usual,_ Haechan wiggled at him back then _._ Renjun and Kun exchanged knowing glances when he went out during weird times of the night, and Taeil even covered for him when Lee Soo Man asked. They didn’t talk about it, because he was very particular with his privacy, but they were happy for him, whoever she was. But then something probably happened, and they had to see Yuta brood and suffer quietly for more than a year.

Now, in this little space, she was finally in front of him again. He had her against the wall with both of his hands on either side of her head. Yes, she was obviously _furious_ and _hurting. Yes,_ it was his fault, and it hurt just as much for him, if not more.

But _yes,_ he missed her. And he was a selfish prick who wanted what he couldn’t have.

“My business is none of your concern.” Her voice was shaking now. He wanted to kiss the tears off her eyes and tell her that he wouldn’t hurt her again, but he knew that would be a lie. Their lives never matched. They met at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong emotions. No matter how right it felt.

“.. I know.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips tenderly against hers, like how he always did in his dreams. She was unresponsive, but he poured everything into that kiss. He wanted her to understand without saying the words. He didn’t want empty promises, but he hoped that she realized that _this_ meant something to him more than she thought.

———————————————————————-

The tenth time and the last time they met, he didn’t hold back.

His hand gripped her hair as he pushed her back and face towards the mattress. His other hand lifted her thigh to let her ass hang up in the air. She gave it a slap, relinquishing the way she flinched.

_Lion means go, firefly means stop._

He massaged the tip of his cock against her slit. There was a morbid satisfaction in the sound of their wet skins squelched together. He sighed, feeling it twitch. But he had to wait.

Her consent meant more to him than his need to feel her.

“Lion..” She keened.

Leaning forward to plant a kiss at the back of her neck, he _slowly_ inched his way in. They both moaned in unison when his rigid, thickened girth stretched her soft walls almost painfully, while he tried his best to take it slow to savor the sensation.

Honestly, it was a very difficult task to do.

She was so hot and tight that he did not know what to do with himself. He wanted to drag the moment and make it last, but she felt _too good_. He was stunned in such a dilemma that the girl under him had to pull him out of his thoughts.

“Yah..” She whined. “.. What are you waiting for?”

He laughed despite himself. “Someone’s impatient, ne?”

“Are you fucking kidding.” She deadpanned while gritting her teeth. “Do you wanna fight now?”

He responded by roughly pushing his entire length in one go. She yelped in surprise, and suddenly her moans were chopped into breathless syllables when he completely pulled out and pushed back in deeper again and again. He started at a leisurely pace, feeling the velvety smoothness of her insides perfectly constricting around his cock like he belonged there.

Her words were muffled against the pillow, but he could hear her anyway. “.. Faster, please.”

He tsk’ed in jest. “So demanding, Hotaru-chan.”

She moaned. “You’re so annoying.” 

“You like me anyway.” He hissed in between groans as soon as he aggressively picked up the pace. She fisted onto the pillows to brace herself with his newfound strength, the recoil underneath her bellybutton reaching to heights. He did not even stop when her choked scream made the stars appear behind her eyelids. Instead, he held her waist and continued relentlessly pounding and rutting hilt-deep, going faster and rougher until her body exploded twice.

He kneeled down to position his face in front of her cunt. Her scent was driving him crazy. He heard her gasp when he spat on her glistening heat, using his fingers to evenly spread his saliva to mark his territory. His tongue violated her insides when he couldn’t take it anymore, rapidly moving the muscle in and out and flattening it continuously along her pink folds until her legs shook. She withered when his lips made unholy sounds and his teeth grazed and sucked the little swollen nub of nerves.

She couldn’t even move a muscle when her insides contracted because his arms were wrapped securely around her legs and his hands were gripping her ass like he wanted bruises to stay there for a long time.

She cummed for the third time that night, but it seemed like he was far from satisfied.

He flipped her until her back was pressed against her bed.

He took both of her wrists and tied it above her head with a tight knot. If she became uncomfortable, she had to say _green_ so that he could untie it for her.

Reaching down, he slipped two fingers inside her, knuckle-deep. A weak sigh came out of her trembling lips, considering she was still barely recovering from her previous orgasms. 

"Do you like this?" He whispered. The fingers inside her scissored and hooked, making her sob. "Yuta--Ah..!"

"Hmm?"

"I-" She whimpered when his ministrations stopped. "I-I do.."

He added another finger. "Beg for it, then." 

"Yuta!" Her legs closed against his hand. "Please.."

He latched his mouth on her neck and nibbled a sensitive part. "I can't hear you, babe."

"Please.." Forcing three fingers inside while playing with her wet clit with his thumb, he grinned as she mumbled her words rather shyly. "Please.. d-don't stop.."

She wanted to hit him when he snickered at her utter humiliation. "Since you asked so nicely," He quickened his thrusts. "Your wish is my command, _Hotaru-chan_."

He eagerly devoured the sweetness that coated his fingers when she spasmed for the fourth time.

If this was really the last time that he could have her taste in his mouth, then he had to make sure that none of it would be wasted. 

Reaching for the little bullet-shaped device underneath the pillow, he gently massaged her clit using the little metal while he pressed his cum-covered lips against hers, letting her taste herself with his tongue.

He pressed the button and she started shaking helplessly.

Taking in the way her face lost bliss and the way she gasped his name into his memory, he leaned down to brand her neck and chest with more angry love bites. She was his for tonight. _Only his_.

But then she would be gone tomorrow. There was no use pretending that he didn’t want her bound and chained to him until the sun rose.

“G-green.. oppa..” She whimpered weakly when she cummed for the fifth time. ".. Yuta-kun.. Please.. please.. F- _firefly.._ "

He turned off the device and licked the sensitive hickeys on her neck. Wiping the sweat on her forehead, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her until her shivers calmed down and came to a halt. “You okay? Do you want to stop?”

She brought her hand to caress his cheek. He pressed his face against her warm palm and sighed.

A few hours from now, she would be on the other side of the world. There was a 90% chance that she would not see him again in a very long time.. or ever.

They both agreed that they would have to cut ties from each other, for good, because it would be healthier to stay that way.

“I lov—“

But it didn't mean it would be less painful.

So, she whispered, instead. “Make love to me, Nakamoto Yuta.”

———————————————————————————

Birds flocked near her feet as she sat by the bench in front of Big Ben in London.

In her hand were postcards given by her mom. It was funny and sweet how she insisted on sending love letters in the traditional way.

Her mother was a sentimental woman.

She looked up to the skies. It was clear and dark and twinkling with stars. Just like one night in a park bench in Seoul.

_How are you?_

_I hope you are fine._

_I wish you the best things in life._

_I love you._


End file.
